


Show Me What You're Made Of

by Missellaineous



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fashion Designer AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 08:13:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12502896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missellaineous/pseuds/Missellaineous
Summary: fashion designer au of our favorite gay ice skaters





	Show Me What You're Made Of

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [urgent need of gravity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9357374) by [RennieOnIceCream (Hitsugi_Zirkus)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hitsugi_Zirkus/pseuds/RennieOnIceCream). 



> Goodness gracious it took me three hours to fix whatever happens when I copy and paste to AO3, but here it is! Finally! (Just in time lol)
> 
> Please treat yourself to some amazing art by iltani-sol on tumblr here: http://iltani-sol.tumblr.com/post/166860095096/i-got-to-work-with-the-amazingly-talented

The first time Yuuri fell in love, he was watching the New York fall fashion show with Yuuko and Nishigori.

They were gathered around the coffee table at Yuuko’s house, watching a tape she had recorded the night before. Yuuko kept up a running commentary as the models walked the runway, gushing over outfits with Yuuri while Nishigori watched quietly next to them. Yuuri was giggling with Yuuko over a particularly silly looking dress when the most beautiful person Yuuri had ever seen appeared on the small screen.

It was a young man with long silver hair and delicate features wearing a dress with a skirt that reached almost to the floor on his left leg, but the right side was so short it ended just below his hip. The red underskirt flashed as he glided down the catwalk gracefully, and the silver embellishments on the shoulder sparkled in the flashing lights.

Yuuri was entranced, and he stared at the screen with large sparkling eyes. Yuuko noticed his fascination and smiled. “That’s Victor Nikiforov. Everyone says he’s gonna be the next biggest model. He’s everywhere right now.”

When Victor walked backstage, and another model had stepped into the spotlight, Yuuri blinked. When he saw that Yuuko and Nishigori were looking at him, and he blushed.

Nishigori smirked at him. “See something you like, Yuuri?”

Yuuri hunched his shoulders and dropped his eyes to his lap.

When Nishigori opened his mouth to tease Yuuri more, Yuuko threw a look at him and he leaned back against the couch with a pout.

Yuuri’s embarrassment made him keep his eyes down as he plucked at the hem of his shirt fretfully.

As Yuuko continued to comment on the models and outfits on the tv, he slowly relaxed and started to add his own thoughts once again.

Once the tape was finished, Yuuri left to escape the lingering tension in the air. Nishigori stayed behind to hang out with Yuuko a little longer while she walked Yuuri to the door. As the two said their goodbyes, Yuuko handed Yuuri a fashion magazine she had retrieved from her room. “I think you’ll like this, Yuuri,” she said.

Yuuri’s eyes widened when he recognized the boy on the cover as the silver haired model from earlier. “Thank you, Yuu-chan!” he said as he hugged the magazine to his chest.

She smiled at him. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

He nodded and then bowed before he left. He ran to his room as soon as he got home, where he poured over the glossy pictures, staring the longest at the ones with Victor in them.

From then on, Yuuri collected every picture he could of Victor’s, and put them up on his wall in his room. His family were puzzled at his behavior, but didn’t question him much about his fascination with the model. They merely smiled and nodded as they listened as he talked about Victor, relaying every new fact he learned about him.

“He’s from Russia, and he has a poodle named Makkachin! Isn’t that the cutest name you ever heard?”

“Victor has traveled all over the world; do you think he’ll come to Japan one day?”

“Should I grow my hair out like Victor’s?”

That last one had gotten a disbelieving look from his sister, Mari.

It was in home ec class that Yuuri realized what he wanted to do when he grew up. They were learning how to make clothes that month, and the teacher was helping each student check their work so far. As Yuuri worked on his shirt he thought to himself, ‘I want to make something beautiful. I want to make something good enough for Victor to wear.’

Because he helped his parents around the onsen when he could, he’d always gotten good grades in home ec class. His teacher had told him that he was a natural.

It was also in home ec class that he had met Yuuko. Although she was a grade above him, an accident in one of the classrooms had forced the classes to share space. She was the only one to sit by him in his lonely spot in the back of the class.  He had been too shy to reciprocate her friendly conversation at first, by after pairing up for an assignment to make a cake resulted in a mess of flour and sugar everywhere, Yuuri had opened up and they had been best friends ever since.

When he told her what he had decided, she squealed excitedly. “That would be amazing, Yuuri! I’m sure you’d be awesome at it, too. You’re really good at that kind of thing.”

He blushed under her praise and smiled.

“You should join the sewing club! I know somebody in it, they’re always looking for new people to join!” she continued.

Yuuri looked down at his feet. “I don’t know, Yuuko,” he said. The idea of joining a group of people he didn’t know seemed so intimidating.

Yuuko looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before her face brightened. “What if I joined with you?” she offered.

Yuuri felt a war of relief at the idea, but he didn’t want to trouble Yuuko so much. “You don’t have to do that for me,” he said.

“I want to,” she reassured him. “You know how much I love fashion.”

They smiled at each other. “Okay,” he said. “That actually sounds really fun.”

“Great!” Yuuko grabbed Yuuri’s hand and pulled him after her as she walked down the hallway. “Let’s go fill out the application forms now!”

Yuuri laughed and followed her.

After that, Yuuri did everything he could to save up for a sewing machine. He saved up all of his allowance, and performed extra chores around the onsen to earn more. After eight months of saving, it was finally full, and he sat down at his desk with it to count the coins.

When he realized that he had more than enough to buy the sewing machine he had been almost too scared to want and have some money left over to buy fabric and thread, he couldn’t help but dance around his bedroom with joy. He then ran into the dining room to tell his parents.

That weekend, as Yuuri helped his dad move in the sewing machine he had picked out at the store earlier into his bedroom, he thought excitedly of all the designs had had been working on in his notebook. He had been working on them constantly, revising and restarting whenever he had a spare moment. His seniors in the sewing club had helped him when he had gathered up enough courage to ask them to look over his ideas. The praise they had given him had boosted his confidence enough to encourage him to continue improving

“There we go,” his dad said he they finally set down the heavy machine.

Yuuri gave his dad a quick hug, shouting a “thank you”, and then he ran back to the car outside to retrieve the rest of his things.

When he went to school the next week, he shyly showed off the outfit he had created to everyone in the sewing club, who all congratulated him.

One of the girls in his year spoke up. “Maybe you can participate in the festival this year, Yuuri! Everyone is gonna be modeling their own designs in a show to represent the club!”

Yuuko nodded excitedly. “Yeah, I know someone who could do the makeup also! It’ll be so much fun!”

Yuuri hunched his shoulders. Showing his designs to people in the sewing club was one thing, but the whole school? And everyone who came to see the festival? It seemed like too much.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled.

Yuuko looks at him understandingly. “Just think about it, Yuuri,” she said. “There’s three more months before the festival anyway.”

He smiled at her. “Okay.”

Before he knew it, he was sketching out designs for the festival, and then he was cutting the fabric, and when the day of the festival came, he was standing with the other club members backstage, waiting for his name to be called. He could feel himself sweating from nerves.

“Don’t worry, Yuuri,” Yuuko whispered. She was standing next to him, wearing the clothes he spent the last few months working on. She looked amazing, with her hair up to show off her long neck, the black and silver sequined dress hugging her hips before it flared outward with bright red ruffles showing underneath. A matching red jacket was the finishing touch.

And then it was Yuuko’s turn, and Yuuri was being announced as the designer. The applause and wolf whistles soothed his anxiety enough that he basked in the positive reception to his work. He peeked around the curtain carefully so he could see the audience, but they couldn’t see him, and couldn’t help a relieved overjoyed smile from crossing his face. When Yuuko returned, walking gracefully and proudly, she gave Yuuri an ecstatic hug. “They loved it, Yuuri!” she said a little too loudly, and several people hushed them.

They nodded sheepishly, but the reprimand hadn’t gotten rid of the giddiness, and the giggled together as Yuuko told Yuuri how everyone had loved the dress.

That was one of the best days of Yuuri’s life, and it was one of the reasons he found the strength to go to school in Paris once he had graduated high school, to study fashion in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. The fact that Victor Nikiforov lived there wasn’t a part of the decision, no matter what Mari said. No, really.

The first year was the hardest. He had to learn a new language, try to make friends in a foreign country, and become aware of all the flaws in his technique. He spent every day of the first three months talking himself out of running home. As he was finally able to communicate with the locals without elaborate hand gestures, and he noticed the marked improvement in his work, he felt like he could actually handle it all.

He met Phichit his second year, when they were assigned as roommates in the dorms. The fact that they were both from different countries, and that Phichit had worked so hard to get past Yuuri’s walls was the reason they became best friends that semester, and they requested to be roommates for the rest of their time at school.

So, it followed that when Phichit applied for an internship at Stammi Vicino, Yuuri would do everything he could to get one as well. He had been almost too afraid to apply to the famous label, but with Phichit there it seemed like it could actually be possible. He turned in his application with crossed fingers and prayers to every god he’d ever heard of. They got responses on the same day a few weeks after they’d turned in the applications, and they sat across from each other on Yuuri’s bed holding the envelopes.

Phichit counted down, “Three, two, one, open!” and they ripped the envelopes open at the same time, racing to read through the contents.

When Yuuri looked up, Phichit was already looking at him with a huge grin on his face. When Yuuri stared back at him with a straight face, his smile faltered. “What does it say?” he asked.

“I-I got in,” Yuuri said softly, unable to believe it. Phichit crowed in excitement. “Me too! We both got internships at Stammi Vicino! This is amazing, Yuuri!” He started to jump on the bed in his excitement, jostling Yuuri.

Phichit’s shouting broke through Yuuri’s shock, and a matching grin grew on his own face. He joined his best friend in jumping on his mattress, to excited to care about breaking his bed.

Suddenly, Phichit gasped and stopped, grasping onto Yuuri to hold him still as well. “Yuuri, what if we meet Victor Nikiforov?”

Yuuri blushed. “There’s no way, I mean, Victor’s too amazing to worry about some interns, he wouldn’t be interested in meeting us-no offense, Phichit-and even if I did meet him what would I say- “

Phichit interrupted Yuuri’s nervous mumblings.

“Okay, one, we are both awesome, and Victor would be lucky to meet either one of us; two, I’m sure we could avoid him if we wanted to. Stammi Vicino is a big company, and we’re starting from the bottom. Who knows if we’ll ever meet him.”

Yuuri’s shoulders tensed. “Well, it’s not like I don’t want to meet him…” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Phichit looked at him knowingly. “Oh, I know what you want to do to Victor Nikiforov. We shared a dorm for three years, Yuuri.”

Yuuri’s face turned red and he immediately started stammering. “Th-that was an accident, Phi-Phichit! Nobody was sup-supposed to see that! You didn’t even knock!”

Phichit shook his finger on Yuuri. “We’ve talked about this Yuuri. A sock on the door goes a long way in protecting your privacy.”

Yuuri glared at his best friend.

“Anyway,” Phichit continued. “We’ve still got plenty of time before either of us ever meets Victor Nikiforov. Let’s focus on just impressing everyone at Stammi Vicino with our own amazing skills and getting promoted to chief designers right away.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help smiling at Phichit’s attempt to cheer him up. “You think so?” he said.

“Definitely.” Phichit grinned back at him. “We’ll dominate the world together.” He plopped back onto the bed. “But first, we have to decide what to wear on our path for domination.”

“What’s wrong with the clothes we already have?” Yuuri frowned.

Phichit looked at him with the most serious expression Yuuri had ever seen him wear. “Yuuri, we can’t walk into _Stammi Vicino_ looking like any old college students. This is exactly the situation we’ve been saving up for!” he declared.

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. “You mean we weren’t saving up for an emergency? Or to have a cushion to fall back on?”

“This is an emergency! Can you imagine showing up to our first day of the rest of our lives looking like we just rolled out of bed and put on the first clean pair of clothes we could find?”

“Um, I guess not?”

“No one would take us seriously as designers if we dress like we’ve been hit with an anti-fashion stick.” Phichit narrowed his eyes. “And if Victor saw us…”

Yuuri hated it that his friend’s obviously ploy was working. No matter how small the possibility was that they’d meet Victor when they were just a couple of fresh interns, it wasn’t zero. And that was enough to persuade him to go along with Phichit to upgrade their wardrobes.

“All right, you win,” he sighed.

Phichit beamed. “You won’t regret this! This is just step one of our ultimate plan.” He struck a pose, and Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh.

They ended up spending most of their savings when they went shopping that weekend, and Yuuri despaired at how much it had drained their bank accounts. It had taken two days of none stop shopping for Phichit to be satisfied with their final looks, and Yuuri spent the last day of their weekend sleeping in to recover. Unfortunately, sleeping the day away made it almost impossible to get a full night’s sleep the night before their first day at Stammi Vicino, and he tossed and turned in his bed all night. He gave up by the time the sun came up, and he started making breakfast. Phichit came shuffling out of his room not long after Yuuri had a pot of coffee brewing, sleepy-eyed and much quieter than his usual self.

They both slowly brightened as they ate breakfast and downed at least two cups of coffee each.

Thankfully, they had already picked out their outfits, otherwise Yuuri would have spent all morning agonizing over what to wear before defaulting to some of his comfort clothes.

They took Yuuri’s car since Stammi Vicino was on the other side of the city from where they lived. Yuuri carefully navigated the morning traffic, thankful they had left with plenty of time for the commute.

After carefully parking in the right section and leaving his parking pass hanging from his rear-view mirror, they walked up to the front doors. Yuuri paused before pulling on the door handle. It had taken him years to get to this point, where he was finally in reach of his goal. He took a deep breath and pulled open the door with determination, and let Phichit in before him. He followed Phichit to the help desk and let his friend take the lead when his short-lived courage failed him.

Sitting behind the counter was a man staring at a computer screen intently. When they approached, he turned to greet them with a seemingly indifferent expression. “Welcome to Stammi Vicino. How can I help you?”

“Hello!” Phichit smiled brightly at the man. “We’re two of the new interns that start today!”

The man behind the counter nodded. “Yes, we’ve been expecting you.” He handed each of them a small stack of papers. “Please sign these contracts. I will get you copies of the finished paperwork before you leave today. And here is an explanation of our policies and procedures. Please conduct yourselves as respectful representatives of our company should. You are to proceed to the third floor and seek out Christophe Giacometti for further instruction. The elevator is over there.” He pointed to a pair of gold doors to the left of the desk. “Here are your key cards for getting into restricted areas. You’ll need them to operate the elevator.”

They nodded followed his instructions before taking the keycards he offered to them. “Thank you,” they said before they went to the elevator. Once they were alone behind the shut doors, they looked at each other and grinned.

When the doors opened onto the third floor, they walked out onto a completely open room filled with clothes racks. People bustled between the sewing machines and pinning clothes on the mannequins scattered all over the floor. Yuuri and Phichit stepped forward, unsure where to find Christophe in the chaos, when a hand groping his ass startled Yuuri.

“Well, well, you two must be the interns coming in today,” a smooth voice said right next to his ear, and a shiver went down Yuuri’s spine. He jumped away and rubbed where the man had touched him to chase away the feeling of foreign hands.

Behind him was a man with dyed blonde hair and a five o’clock shadow wearing a stylish pair of glasses. “I am Christophe Giacometti, your new boss. But you,” he winked at Yuuri. “May call me Chris.”

Yuuri can’t stop an awkward laugh from escaping as he backed away just a few more steps. He could see Phichit wearing a shit eating grin out of the corner of his eye and had to stop himself from flipping off his friend.

Chris became more serious. “You two are to help Georgi and Mila prepare for the show next month. They should be able to answer any questions you have. If you have any concerns, feel free to seek me out. Off you go~” He shooed them off to a corner of the room where a black-haired man with a distraught look on his face and a cheerful looking redhead stood chatting. As Yuuri and Phichit drew closer they could overhear the conversation.

“-and this is to represent the many years I have stood faithfully by Anya’s side, before she was tricked by that scoundrel and left me.”

“You were together for two months,” the redhead interjected with a smirk.

The man ignored her. “The dark fabric represents to emptiness of life without my Anya, while the red shows the passion that still burns within me.”

The redhead muffles a laugh behind her hand before she noticed the two approaching boys. “Hi! Are you two the new interns?”

“That’s us!” Phichit agreed while Yuuri nodded his head. “Chris told us we’re supposed to assist you to help prepare for the show next month.”

“Perfect! I’m Mila, and this is Georgi.” She gestured toward the man, who looked like he was starting to tear up. “We could definitely use some more hands.”

Phichit gave a flashy bow. “We are at your disposal my lady.”

Yuuri saw the glint in Mila’s eyes and instinctively took a step back. He wondered if it was too late to ask to assist someone else.

Unfortunately, it was too late. Georgi and Mila immediately put them to work pinning clothes, sweeping the floor, and running errands all over the building. Yuuri slumped against the wall in the elevator during a brief moment when he was alone in it, and he sighed. This wasn't exactly what he had been expecting working at Stammi Vicino would be like. He tried to cheer himself up by reminding himself of his goal: to make something beautiful enough for Victor Nikiforov to wear proudly.

The doors to the elevator opened, and three people entered. Yuuri retreated as far into the corner as he could fit himself, and he stared down at his feet to avoid awkward eye contact. All he could see of the strangers were their shoes. There were a pair of black dress shoes tied neatly, a pair of stylish boots that gleamed in the artificial light, and a pair of purple converse that looked well-loved. Yuuri felt overly self-conscious of his own worn tennis shoes, and shuffled his feet closer together.

He was trying not to eavesdrop on their conversation as he watched the floor numbers change, when he heard a familiar voice say, “Hello, there.”

Yuuri had spent years watching Victor Nikiforov in interviews and on fashion shows, so he immediately recognized the model voice. He automatically looked up and inadvertently locked eyes with the man who had fascinated him for almost half of his life.

Yuuri felt his face turn red, but he couldn’t make himself turn away. Victor’s eyes were so much bluer in person.

“Hello,” Victor repeated himself.

Yuuri tried to respond but all that came out was a squeak. Mercifully, the elevator doors opened onto his floor, and he retreated after stammering out a quick “b-bye!”

Once he’d gone around the corner and was out of sight, he slumped against the nearest wall and banged his head on it in frustration. His first time meeting with Victor Nikiforov, and he’d acted like an idiot. He groaned as he thought of just how awkward it must have seemed from Victor’s point of view. Someone walking past gave him a strange look, but he didn’t stop. Yuuri forced himself to finish the errand he’d been sent on. He pushed the incident to the back of his mind for the rest of the day. Phichit could tell something had happened, but they were kept busy enough that he hadn’t had time to ask Yuuri about it until they had returned to their apartment that night.

Yuuri told him what had happened, and Phichit rubbed his back soothingly.

“I’m sure he doesn’t think anything of it,” he said as Yuuri tried to suffocate himself in one of their couch pillows. “And there’ll be plenty of chances to meet him again. A couple weeks from now you’ll forget all about this.”

“I’ll never forget,” Yuuri mumbled. “It’s been burned into my memory.”

He could feel Phichit rolling his eyes. Yuuri felt the shift as his friend stood up. “I’m making popcorn and putting on a movie,” he declared. “Do you want anything?”

Yuuri was silent for a moment before he gave in. “Hot chocolate,” he requested.

“Hot chocolate and popcorn it is. I’ll be right back.”

Yuuri flipped over on the couch so that he was staring up at the ceiling as Phichit padded into the kitchen, and he tried to convince himself to not avoid all possible future contact with Victor Nikiforov. He shot up as a realization came to him. Yuuri groaned again and ran a hand through his hair.

Phichit came back into the living room carrying his spoils just in time to hear Yuuri’s miserable moaning. “What is it now?” he asked.

“Victor’s gonna be modeling at the show next month. The one that we are helping with. As assistants to the designers who will be dressing the Victor Nikiforov. Where I will embarrass myself in front of him. Again.”

“Don't be so dramatic. What's actually gonna happen is that you’ll do everything right, introduce yourself to the man you've been obsessed with for years, find out he's not perfect, and have amazing sex with him.”

Yuuri gaped at Phichit. “I-I wouldn't, I mean, Victor's really-you can't actually think-”

“I do. He does, and you will. Just you wait and see, next month it's all gonna happen just as I’ve predicted.”

Yuuri shook his head, but he knew he couldn't change Phichit’s mind once he's decided something. So he settled back down and moved his legs so that his roommate could sit on the other end of the couch, and they started one of their favorite movies.

The day of the show dawns on Yuuri too keyed up from nerves to properly sleep. He was laying in bed browsing his phone, trying to keep his mind off of the upcoming event. When Phichit found him, he confiscated Yuuri's phone and forced him to take a nap for the rest of the morning.

Instead of going to Stammi Vicino’s building like normal, they were to meet everybody on site for the show, so they left early to make it through the traffic and arrive just on-time to be put to work help setting up.

When Yuuri had first heard that the show was being held below the Eiffel Tower, he had been stunned. Now there was no time to marvel. Phichit and Yuuri were given lanyards with identity cards when they arrived, and then were immediately put to work. The show was only a few hours away, so everyone was rushing to get ready before the guests started arriving. It wasn’t until all but a few things had been finished that they were told they could have a break. Phichit and Yuuri collapsed onto the nearest chairs and choked down a quick meal.

And then the sun was setting, and the last preparations were being made. Everyone retreated to their own corner, and the models came in for makeup while guests started filling up the seats. Suddenly, the stars were out, the Eiffel Tower was lit up, and the show was starting. Time was moving fast. Things were moving too quickly backstage for Yuuri to be concerned with what was happening beyond the curtain. He felt a thrill knowing that others were seeing the results of his work, and he wondered what it would feel like when he got to show off his own designs.

He saw Victor in passing too many times to count. He was always coming or going, transformed every time he returned backstage before being sent out again. Yuuri stared at him a little too long whenever he was in eyeshot. Victor had always been too beautiful to ignore. Unfortunately, Yuuri’s fascination had resulted in a ripped hemline in one of Mila’s dresses. As soon as he heard the stitches ripped he started screaming internally. He’d only been at Stammi Vicino for a month, and he’d already messed up at his first show. Stammi Vicino’s anniversary show.

A few of the other designers near him had also heard the rip, and they turned to him with faces that showed the horror he felt. He only allowed himself a few seconds to regret his entire life before he moved to fix it. It took a few minutes, and the model wearing the dress had to miss her turn down the walkway because of it. Yuuri just hoped that the transition had been smooth enough that no one noticed the change in plans. Finally, after he felt like he had completely sweat through his jacket from nerves, the rip was fixed, and the model rejoined the rotation with no problems.

Yuuri felt horrible. He was probably gonna be fired now. His career was over before it really started. His mind spiraled into darkness, while on the outside he continued to work like nothing was wrong. He wasn’t sure what else to do.

 

* * *

 

 

Victor loved being a model. He loved the beautiful clothes, the fascination of thousands of people watching him, the power of directing the world’s attention with a flick of the wrist and the tilt of his head. He loved how months of work paid off for this one moment of total captivation with him at the center. The shows he loved the most were the ones in which he could surprise the audience.

But as the years passed by and he started each season with a new image, he craved something more. It wasn’t enough to just change the surface anymore. He felt like he had reached a dead end in his life, and it sapped his enthusiasm away. He did the same thing every day: he woke up and walked his dog Makkachin around the park across from his apartment, went into work to be dressed up and posed, came home to eat a frozen meal and take Makkachin for another walk before ending the night with some aerobics.

Because he had to regulate his body for his job, he couldn’t go out for parties often, and the few dates he’d had were with men that wanted him for his fame and not for his company. It was a lonely lifestyle that drained him until he felt empty. It didn’t help that each year eroded away his allure. He had just another few years at the most in the ever-changing model industry. The stress made him constantly worry over his thinning hair and wrinkling skin. He’d been a model for so long he didn’t know what else to do with himself, so the end of his career felt like the end of the world.

After spending ages trying to decide how he wanted to leave modeling behind, he decided that he wanted to leave while he was still at the top instead of slowing becoming irrelevant.

It was at an awards ceremony after Stammi Vicino’s anniversary show where he planned to make the announcement, but he never got the chance. When it came time to go up on stage, he had left.

 

* * *

 

 

The show had gone just as well as any other; the models had been dressed and painted to perfection, and their audience had adored every look they had flaunted down the catwalk. It wasn’t until the after party that thing’s had suddenly become exciting.

Chris’ new interns had done well enough assisting all of the designers finish last touch ups. Victor thinks he might have heard something about an issue with a ripped hemline or whatever, but it had sounded like a small issue that had been resolved quickly, and problems behind the curtain weren’t uncommon. The intern with the glasses had seemed to take it hard, though, and Victor could see him drowning his sorrows at the table full of champagne glasses. Victor could see out of the corner of his eye there the number of empty glasses was growing at an alarming rate, and made a note in the corner of his mind to send someone to check on the poor thing soon. But under the weight of the sponsors and reporters who constantly vied for his attention, it had seemed like such an unimportant thing.

That is, until he had taken a seat at a table on the edge of the pavilion, and had soon found his lap full with a boy with black hair and sparkling brown eyes. The boy was laughing even as he leaned against Victor’s chest. Victor’s mouth dropped open and his throat closed, while his arms automatically wrapped around the warm body pressed against him. He stared at the intern, now without his glasses, as he looked up to meet Victor’s eyes and grin.

Victor was stunned at the pure joy written on the boy’s face. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so free.

“Victor Nikiforov,” the intern purred close to his ear. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Victor cleared his throat. “Well, it is my party after all. Or well, Stammi Vicino’s party.”

The boy giggled, and Victor felt warmth fill his chest at the carefree sound. “If it’s your party, you should be dancing! Come dance with me, Victor!”

The boy stumbled out of his lap before turning around and grabbing Victor’s hands. He tried to pull him up and towards an open area near the middle of the pavilion. Victor resisted. “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he said.

The boy pouted, and Victor felt the urge to give in crash down on him before the boy’s expression turned coy. “Don’t you want to dance with me, Victor? I’ve been told I’m a very good partner.”

“Maybe another time,” Victor answered, even though he knew the answer would still be no. The only kind of dancing he'd ever done had been at nightclubs, and he didn't exactly want to be grinding on boys in front of his clients, no matter how cute the boy was.

He didn’t know Chris was behind him until he spoke. “He’s quite an interesting person.”

Victor turned to look at him. “Who is?”

Chris nodded to the boy who was now dancing with another boy who had black and gray eyes. “Yuuri. He’s a new intern we got last month. Very talented, very passionate, and a very nice ass.” Chris winked. “He’s usually very closed off. But I guess a little alcohol can make most people open up.”

They both looked to where Yuuri and his friend were dancing. Mila, Sara, and a few others had joined them now, and whoever was in charge of music had turned it up so that it seemed like a proper dance party. Even some of the older guests were tapping their feet and nodding their heads to the beat.

Victor was starting to regret his decision to not go with Yuuri when he asked him to dance.

Chris hummed. “I think I’ll go join them. Care to come along?”

Two hours later…

Victor and the boy giggled as they pushed open the door and tumbled into a dark room.

“Wait, wait,” Victor said, and he let go of Yuuri’s hand.

“Nooooo, don’t leave me,” Yuuri whined.

“Just let me find it,” he replied. Then the room was flooded with light, revealing racks of clothes and mirrors all along the walls. Victor turned to see the boy standing next to a light switch with a triumphant look on his face. “I found it,” he stated proudly.

“You did,” Yuuri agreed. He didn’t seem quite as drunk as he had at the banquet. Maybe the ride to Victor’s apartment had sobered him up some.

Yuuri took his hand again, and Victor pulled him towards the clothes racks. “C’mon,” he said. “It’s over here.”

Hung on a random, unassuming rack was the dress that Victor had made his debut as a model in. The silver embellishments on the right shoulder sparkled in the light when Yuuri reached out to feel the black satin. “Wow,” he whispered.

Victor could remember the first time he had worn the dress on camera like it had been yesterday. The thrill he had felt as all eyes were on him, how beautiful and captivating everyone told him he was. It had been a long time since he had felt beautiful or captivating. He watched as Yuuri marveled over the dress, and spoke before he realized it. “Do you want to try it on?”

Yuuri looked at him with shining eyes. “Could I?”

Victor smiled. If it were going to be anyone, he wanted it to be Yuuri. “Of course.”

Yuuri gasped, delighted, and he immediately pulled off his clothes. Once he was standing in just his underwear, Victor helped him slide the dress on over his head. Yuuri’s hips were wider than Victor’s had been, and his shoulders weren’t as broad, but the dress wrapped around his frame in all the right ways, as if it had always been meant for him to wear. Victor watched as Yuuri ran his hands over his sides reverently. Their eyes met, and they smiled at each other.

“You look beautiful,” Victor said.

Yuuri beamed at him. “Really?” he asked.

Victor turned him towards the nearest mirror. “Look for yourself.”

Yuuri looked at himself, turning his body so that he could see all of it. “I’m still not as beautiful as you, Victor,” he said.

Something bittersweet squeezed in Victor’s chest at the words. He could hear music playing from somewhere in the city through an open window, so he stepped forward. “May I have the dance?”

Yuuri giggled again, and Victor wished that he wouldn’t stop. “You may,” he answered.

Victor let Yuuri take the lead as the waltzed around the empty room. Victor was now too caught up in the music made by Yuuri’s every move to pay attention to the faint melody he’d heard moments before. It felt like they were the only two people in the world. They slowed down until they were only swaying in each other’s arms.

It may have only been a few hours since they’d had their first full-fledged conversation, but Victor was already wishing he could stretch out the rest of their time to last for an eternity.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone who hasn't read urgent need of gravity by rennieonicecream needs to go do that immediately right now, because it is brilliant
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Writing this has been a journey, especially since I've never written a one-shot before. It was a struggle not to turn it into a multi-chapter, and I have so many headcanons I had to leave out.


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